The sign starts a clock, grounded on paper.
Coldness fills the air; nervousness lasts only a little while.
Shoes untied while sitting in traffic, zoning out while I talk to the birds.
Changing seats for a new perspective, feeling the energy shift until I want my seat back.
Weird people, a cold world — acceptance is a long walk.
Residue stains like red wine on white carpet.
Everything happens on time.
Awareness comes through learning curves in turn breaking layers.
Now dry clay is molded with intention.
Feeling my feet on the ground, stepping over cracks in the pavement.
My heart beats to a song unwritten.
Letting my hair down from its updo position.
Ambiguous uncertainty while simply saying words I’ve already written.
Flashbacks of guilt from another’s pain and division.
Faith brings relief, like ice water on a hot day.
A lemonade stand at the corner — only 25 cents, already made.
Labor pain, forming a union.
Pain in the eyes leaves no room for confusion.
A laundry line in the yard.
There’s no place like home.
The start of a beating heart, plub, pob, plub pob
The eclectic charge
The vibrating push, quivering flesh
Speaks the presents of a living muscle, heart
As the lungs, pumps the blood, flows
2/4/26
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2026
Observing the sky at night is very wonderful so lovely sight!
Thanks Tom Cunningham!
Creative minds are never still,
much like the poet's scribbling quill
and artists' brush, their heart to fill
with things we thought so clever
and things we thought of...never.
A syncopated rhapsody -
a playful rhythm's melody,
awakes the soul and sets it free,
like waves upon the ocean
perpetual emotion.
To pluck a string, or key of white,
or ebony in tickled fright -
composing late into the night -
improvisation lingers,
toe taps and snapping fingers.
From beat to beat - skip one - repeat,
in daytime dreams and nighttime sleep,
the seconds, minutes, hours replete -
with humming echoes haunting,
like childhood dreams are taunting.
Surrender now and acquiesce -
its irresistible caress -
disheveled dance where more is less
yet, every note is fitted,
into our souls is knitted.
Reverberating hearts,
is where the rhythm starts...
Written for Greg Barden's Syncopated Cinquopet Contest
This soul has endured the wrath of time,
Offered prayers at resentment's shrine.
Lead by one's thoughts down the altar,
And witnessed its union with guilt without falter.
When the sun sat on the burning pyre of regrets,
The ashes of assumption blanketed the night's onset.
The faceless guests applauded at its suffering,
While this soul raised a toast, bleeding.
The first dance came to be on the trampled remains,
Of its younger selves bound by memories' chains.
The white of its gown glowed red,
With each passing thorn left unfelt.
But when the vows were exchanged in silence,
With all of the world's tenderness and patience,
This soul promised to look after every version of the self,
The good, the bad, the ugly, and even the one that stayed twelve.
It learned to love the world around it once more,
For it had let go of the hurt nestled in its core.
"The only way out of the labyrinth of suffering is to forgive",
Thus it began with oneself — breaking this cycle of grief.
He began to take her away from her hobbies.
No big deal, her friends thought.
Then he took her away from her family.
They thought it was just young love.
After the marriage no one could get in touch with her.
He had sequestered her far away.
She no longer seemed to have a phone.
Her social media accounts were closed.
You don’t suppose he is hurting her? Her best friends wondered.
Her family was even more alarmed.
He had just called and told them that she was missing.
That was twenty years ago. She has never been found.
One day Bluebird may it be
The someday when it's you and me
Where all the dreams I had to store
And all the times I wanted more
When all the nights I sat alone
In silence staring at my phone
Are finally gone, the waiting done
Come to me, then we'll be one
G-lowing
L-ight,
O-nce
R-eleased,
I-mmediately
A-rrives,
B-rightly
A-llowing
L-iveliness
A-round
N-ature
©bfa042025
Monocrostic (Birthday of Gloria Balan)
she walks into the room
the same way she has for 40 years—
half-asleep mumbling about the price of eggs
but crap, she still makes my heart stop.
you’re the last busted payphone
that somehow still dials home.
you’re the only damn thing
that still makes sense
in a world full of unpaid bills and
broken air conditioners.
your heart’s a busted radiator
still kicking out heat when I need it most.
The cigarette burn on our old kitchen counter—
scarred in, not going anywhere.
hell, you’re a rusted-out truck that
still starts when the whole damn world’s frozen over.
we aren’t perfect but we lasted.
and that’s better than any damn valentine poem.
A grasshopper sitting on feral flower at my garden.
Me watching peacefully lying supine on my lawn
A chameleon attacks and swallows all on a sudden
Cheerful chirping of flock of sterlings at dawn.
Sweet tweets of dancing sparrows at sunlit morn.
Shy snail to walk slow stepping on its single foot
Song bird cuckoo calling mate with tone, musical.
Pet rabbit with chewing habit, biting grass shoot.
Swift squirrel climbing stem up and down, whimsical
Kittens , puppies playing merrily, typical.
Eagle, kites soaring high on cerulean sky trying to dive
Butterflies fluttering wings sipping nectar in thrill
Nature's programs running dynamic, show is live.
Dynamism all around ! Each in zest and zeal.
Daily Show of animal world ! Oblivious to appeal.
There’s nothing better than a warm winter fire
Burning in the hearth at home,
With a cup of coffee and a book to read
Stirring one’s mind to roam.
To a realm of virtual reality
Where ideas take to flight,
Between a few pages lost in the ages
While reading by firelight.
It may be a new novel of love and romance,
Mired in political intrigue,
Or maybe a mystery, history or poetry
Like the tale of “Annabell Lee.”
Perhaps science, astronomy or psychology
Will suit some other tastes,
For the curious mind those kinds will find
Satisfaction made, in haste.
There are no limits to winter’s charm
When it comes to warming hearts,
With an open mind and a moment in time
We all can make new starts.
© Terrell Martin, 01/09/2025
Whatever
Seems to happen
Happens emptily..
Empty expressions of
Starts and stops..
The starts and stops
Tell the stories
Of longing and
Discovery arising
Spontaneously...
When you start getting it
All you've secretly strive for
Some with the help of few
Others all by yourself and God
When it starts manifesting
People Start tracking your medicine.
People wanna know your muse
Forgetting the story brings the glory
People want to be like and do you
But don't wanna walk in your shoes
Forgetting it goes from nothing
To something then everything else.
What you do and how you do it
Always determines your outcome
Where focus goes energy flows
Energy flows manifests results
Love what you do, do it wholly
But not to ride on people for folly.
Your past always comes after you
When the future starts coming to you
Some call it conscious
Others calls it demons
Most calls it karma
What go around comes around.
Close to the finish line of all goals
Nemesis always prevail
It's vengeance of thy Law
Which is the Lord
Thy Lord is love
Giving back in return doubled all your dealings.
Nemesis that patient gangster
Creeps into your heart voicing past deeds
Illuminates your deeds hidden in the mind
Programming your brain
According to what you feed it in the past
Opening your eyes to know life laws.
When Christ comes He'll bring real life
gone for good, the sting of death.
His power and peace cleanses the strife,
Life eternal with His Holy Breath,
pluck the day while it is ripe; get engrossed.
All unmerited on our part,
by Christ the victory is won.
His death and resurrection starts
a journey with the Holy One.
Seize the day, live life from pillar to post.
Life that begins by our free choice
indwelt by His Spirit holy;
we listen daily for His voice
which leads us to gates of glory.
Smell the roses before they become toast.
Heaven is real, I can hardly wait
until our good Lord's will is done.
God's calendar will not be late;
timing revolves around His Son.
Carpe diem, live life to the utmost.
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